The morning sun was just beginning to rise over Rivermore as Calen Storm and his two captains, Aldric and Edric, mounted their horses at the palace gates. The crisp air carried the scent of damp earth from the previous night's rain, and the roads glistened faintly with lingering moisture. The three warriors sat tall in their saddles, their cloaks billowing slightly in the cool breeze.The grand city of Rivermore stretched behind them, its towering spires and intricate bridges casting long shadows in the morning light. They had spent weeks within its walls, navigating the careful dance of diplomacy and observation, yet now they were finally departing. The news they carried would change the course of two nations.As they rode through the outskirts of the city, past fields and quiet hamlets still shrouded in early morning mist, Aldric was the first to break the silence. “I still can’t believe Queen Elara agreed to the proposal so easily,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I expected more r

As the King turned to give further instructions to his advisors, Calen’s sharp eyes flicked toward General Evan Drake. The man stood there, composed, ever the image of a loyal officer. But there was something in his smile—too calm, too gracious—that set off alarms in Calen’s mind.He volunteered too quickly, Calen thought. Evan Drake doesn’t offer support unless there’s something in it for him.Their eyes met across the courtyard. Evan’s lips curled slightly into a knowing smirk, his gaze unreadable. It wasn’t the expression of a man offering support—it was the expression of someone who had just moved a piece on a hidden chessboard.Calen narrowed his eyes but said nothing. The King had already given his decree. There was no room for protest. Whatever Evan was planning, Calen would have to remain vigilant and trust no one but the men he commanded himself.After the formalities concluded, Calen excused himself from the gathering and made his way to the military wing of the palace. Ther

Queen Elara’s smile returned to its formal calm as the ceremonial greetings ended.“Seraphina,” she said softly, yet clearly, her voice echoing with quiet command. “Please escort His Majesty and his entourage to their chambers. Ensure they are well taken care of. The soldiers may rest in the prepared barracks. Tonight, we celebrate.”Seraphina bowed her head slightly. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”King Ashford offered a satisfied grin. “Then I shall look forward to this evening. I expect a celebration worthy of a union between kingdoms.”Queen Elara’s expression didn’t falter. “I believe you will find it… unforgettable.”She stepped back slowly, preparing to leave the grand hall. “Until tonight, King Ashford,” she said with a soft, final nod.But just before turning completely, her gaze shifted once more.Not to the king.Not to Seraphina.But to Calen Storm.It was quick, fleeting — yet unmistakable.Her eyes lingered for just a heartbeat too long. Something unreadable passed through

The grand hall of the Vynorian palace had been transformed into a breathtaking vision — draped in rich silks the color of twilight and gold, lit by hundreds of floating lanterns that shimmered like stars trapped beneath the ceiling. Musicians tuned their instruments in the distance, and servants moved swiftly in preparation for the royal betrothal feast.But before the hall filled with guests, Calen Storm was already inside.He moved in silence, his eyes sharp and focused, scanning each archway, each shadowed alcove, each decorative column. His soldiers — handpicked for their loyalty and precision — moved with him, checking for hidden weapons, suspicious devices, or signs of infiltration.No detail was too small.He examined the elevated platform where King Ashford and Queen Elara Wynn would sit side by side. He checked behind the tapestries, beneath the long banquet tables, and even instructed two men to sweep the rafters above.That was when he heard the voice behind him."General S

The hall had grown tense with murmurs and watchful eyes, but Calen Storm remained still, his gaze locked on the corridor where the High Priestess and Royal Healer had disappeared with the unconscious King.He turned sharply to Seraphina and spoke with firm authority, his voice laced with the tension of responsibility.“I must observe the healing process.”He kept his posture composed, though his jaw was clenched.“The Royal Healer from Aerondale must not be interrupted — not unless Vynoria’s healers are providing support, not taking over.”Seraphina raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.“Support?” she repeated, almost scoffing.“Vynoria has one of the most advanced healing orders in the known realms. We’ve trained under sacred waters and stars for generations. Our methods are precise and effective.”She took a deliberate step closer, lowering her voice slightly.“And with all due respect, General Storm, you are not a healer. You are a soldier. You should not interfere in matters bey